A satire of my fursona. Be warned: it might offend you.

The old joke is that if I die my lag is a three day respawn, however, just like doing the same motion over and over again, or to help pictographic visualizers, drawing the same picture til your eyes bleed, you get better at it. What use to take three days 2010 years ago, now takes three milliseconds. Another visualization: I get a piece of bamboo that decides to invade my ocular cavity, which kills most mortals, will kill me, but three milliseconds have passed, thus allowing me to remove it and allow it to invade the sanctity of another's brain without anyone really seeing me die. I'm like Wolverine, but on steroids and meth.
But, this power can have sever drawbacks. What if I get caught in another Pompeii? Simple, possess a new body. Remember the "virgin"? Yeah, that was me possessing the child she was to bare. It's easier to possess a young body so that I may change it to fit the best image I wish it to have. Hence, the body you see today is eerily similar to the body of yesteryear. Does this make me an evil entity? I could be, but am I? No. The needs of the many are easily outweighed by the one. Much like modern day video games is how karma generally works. Many good deeds will overwrite that one hooker you killed in cold blood.
Though, not being able to die does have many disadvantages, which Freeza would not have seen. Eventually you get bored. History is like bad movie plots, you see it redundantly. Life will make you very jaded. Sadly, if you get truly bored, you can't end it. Taking a nap on a train track won't let you have a final dirt nap, just an annoying headache. Conversely, it can be fun! If I feel depressed, I don't need meds to cure my melancholic mood. All I need is a nail gun. Now, I know I should be aichmophobic(fear of pointed objects), and maybe hastaphobic(fear of spears), but after hundreds of years you get used to things and accept that people are just assholes. I digress, all I need is a nail gun. You see the frontal lobe controls most of those retarded things called emotions, if you put things into your brain in the right spots you can laugh, cry, cream your pants, or even make you shit yourself. You'd be surprised that a few well placed nails in the skull can convert your day from a living hell to unicorn giggles and elf farts. Bet you can't do that.
Being immortal is serious business, though. Since you never die, you seem to be appointed as "God" or something and you really have to keep the monkeys in line or a shitstorm brews over the horizon faster than you in bed. (I invented doggie style by the way. [You're welcome]). And if you let the monkeys stray too far you get disasters like the dark ages, the internet, and toilet paper (you guys really need to stop bitching. I used rocks back in my day. We were real men.)
What's also just as awesome is the other insane things I can do. Walk on water, turn water into anything, raise the dead, cure everything, make entire genres of people die, call on Dad for backup, common sense, be able to use deus ex machina like it's going out of style, multiply food/ideas/people/cats/everything, super [enter attribute here], make zombies, problem solve for anything, hind/now/foresight, and flying. Yes, I can fly, suck it. Not everything was told in that book people rave over so much. What was in it was what I wanted them to see. Their brains would have exploded a million fold over if they knew how bitching it is to be bitching. Also, on the same note, that book did say i was a man-ferret, but the Vatican thought people might misinterpreter it, so they made me a white man. It made sense to them, I didn't care. I like white bread too.
Enough about me telling you how awesome it is to be me. I'm going to go back to turning this water into everclear and killing my liver and kidneys for the billionth time.

Written by  falconpunch